do so."

"Thank you, sir; my mother is a very poor woman, but she will be glad
to see you."

"Now, good by, Robert."

"Good by," repeated Ellen.

"Good by."

Mr. Bayard drove off, leaving Bobby standing on the bridge with the
gold pieces in his hand.

"Here's luck!" said Bobby, shaking the coin. "Won't mother's eyes
stick out when she sees these shiners? There are no such shiners in
the river as these."

Bobby was astonished, and the more he gazed at the gold pieces, the
more bewildered he became. He had never held so much money in his hand
before. There were three large coins and one smaller one. He turned
them over and over, and finally ascertained that the large coins were
ten dollar pieces, and the smaller one a five dollar piece. Bobby was
not a great scholar, but he knew enough of arithmetic to calculate the
value of his treasure. He was so excited, however, that he did not
arrive at the conclusion half so quick as most of my young readers
would have done.

"Thirty-five dollars!" exclaimed Bobby, when the problem was
solved. "Gracious!"

"Hallo, Bob!" shouted Tom Spicer, who had got tired of fishing;
besides, the village clock was just striking twelve, and it was time
for him to go home.

Bobby made no answer, but hastily tying the gold pieces up in the
corner of his handkerchief, he threw the broken rail he had used in
stopping the horse where it belonged, and started for the place where
he had left his fishing apparatus.

"Hallo, Bob!"

"Well, Tom?"

"Stopped him--didn't you?"

"I did."

"You were a fool; he might have killed you."

"So he might; but I didn't stop to think of that. The lady's life was
in danger."

"What of that?"

"Everything, I should say."

"Did he give you anything?"

"Yes;" and Bobby continued his walk down to the river's side.

"I say, what did he give you, Bobby?" persisted Tom, following him.

"O, he gave me a good deal of money."

"How much?"

"I want to get my fish line now; I will tell you all about it some
other time," replied Bobby, who rather suspected the intentions of his
companion.

"Tell me now; how much was it?"

"Never mind it now."

"Humph! Do you think I mean to rob you?"

"No."

"Ain't you going halveses?"

"Why should I?"

"Wasn't I with you?"

"Were you?"

"Wasn't I fishing with you?"

"You did not do anything about stopping the horse."

"I would, if I hadn't been afraid to go up to the road."

"Afraid?"

"Somebody